Abe Lincoln Gets His Chance eBook

Then she saw that Dennis was only teasing. “You
wait!” she went on. “It won’t
be long before Abe will be running around in buckskin
breeches and a coonskin cap.”

“Well, maybe—­”

The door opened, and Tom Lincoln, the baby’s
father, came in. With him was Aunt Betsy Sparrow.
She kissed Nancy and carried the baby over to a stool
by the fireplace. Making little cooing noises
under her breath, she dressed him in a white shirt
and a yellow flannel petticoat. Sally Lincoln,
two years old, who did not know quite what to make
of the new brother, came over and stood beside her.
Dennis drew up another stool and watched.

Aunt Betsy looked across at him and smiled. Dennis,
an orphan, lived with her and she knew that he was
often lonely. There weren’t many people
living in Kentucky in the year 1809, and Dennis had
no boys to play with.

“I reckon you’re mighty tickled to have
a new cousin,” she said.

“I—­I guess so,” said Dennis
slowly.

“Want to hold him?”

Dennis was not quite sure whether he did or not.
Before he could answer, Aunt Betsy laid the baby in
his arms. Sally edged closer. She started
to put out her hand, but pulled it back. Abraham
was so small that she was afraid to touch him.

“Don’t you fret, Sally,” said Dennis.
“Cousin Nancy said that he is going to grow.
And when he does, do you know what I’m going
to do? I’m going to teach him to swim.”

[Illustration]

Looking down into the tiny red face, Dennis felt a
sudden warm glow in his heart. “Yes, and
we can go fishing down at the creek. When I go
to the mill to get the corn ground, he can come along.
He can ride behind me on the horse, and when it goes
cloppety-clop—­”

Dennis swung the baby back and forth. It puckered
up its face and began to cry. Dennis caught his
breath in dismay. How could such a large noise
come out of such a small body?

“Here, Aunt, take him quick!”

He looked at Cousin Nancy out of the corner of his
eye. “I reckon he’ll never come to
much.”

“Now, Dennis Hanks, I want you to behave,”
said Aunt Betsy, but this time Nancy paid no attention
to his teasing. She held out her arms for her
son and cuddled him against her breast.

“As I told you,” she said gaily, “you
have to give him a chance to grow.”

It was almost dark by the time Aunt Betsy had tidied
the one-room cabin. She cooked some dried berries
for Nancy, and fed Sally. Dennis begged to spend
the night. After his aunt had put on her shawl
and left for her own cabin, he curled up in a bearskin
on the floor.

“Denny,” asked Nancy, “what day
is this?”

“It’s Sunday—­”

“I mean what day of the month.”

“I don’t rightly know, Cousin Nancy.”

“I remember now,” she went on. “It
is the twelfth day of February. February 12,
1809! Little Abe’s birthday!”

Outside the wind rose, whistling through the bare
branches of the trees. There was a blast of cold
air as the door opened. Tom came in, his arms
piled high with wood. He knelt on the dirt floor
to build up the fire, and the rising flames lit the
log walls with a faint red glow.